Marry You
by MysticEyesx
Summary: On the day that Bella marries her husband-to-be, she looks back on how it all began . . .
1. Today is the Day

**Summary: **On the day Bella marries her husband to be, she looks back to how it all began.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

**A/N: **A guaranteed lovey dovey Della ending! Can't promise you it won't be all innocent though . . . Enjoy, my fellow Della shippers :)

…

_**Marry You**_

…

"Today is the Day"

(_The Present_)

Today was the day.

After months of hellish preparation, the day was finally here. Today was the day Bella finally married him. And everything was beautiful. So beautiful in fact; that it almost made all the torture Alice put her through worth it . . . almost.

Right now, Bella sat in front of the vanity table in Rosalie and Emmett's bedroom, watching as a humming Alice rummaged through her make-up bag. Alice was already wearing her bridesmaid dress—a pretty powder blue silk gown that reached her knees. Her inky black hair was styled into soft black curls and nestled on one side of her head were small creamy white lilies. The pollen buds of the lilies brought out the vivid ochre shade of her eyes. She looked amazing and Bella felt proud that she had been the one that had decided on the bridesmaid dresses. From somewhere outside, Bella could hear the sound of car doors opening and closing as guests arrived. She tried not to concentrate on the arrival of guests too much, but rather concentrating on everything around her.

Make-up was spread across Rosalie's pure white vanity table; eye-shadows of all shades and consistencies; blushes of all tones of pink; every lipstick, lip-gloss and lip-liner that Bella could imagine; and a daunting set of eyelash curlers that made Bella shift uncomfortably in her seat. Bella's eyes slowly moved to the mirror facing her, her eyes straying towards the reflection of the beautiful white dress draped across the king-sized bed and various other objects lain perfectly beside them. There was a bouquet of lilies, white roses and blue orchids; a white veil neatly folded in a box; a set of rather slinky-looking underwear that had made Bella blush 50 shades of red when Alice had pulled them out of the bag; a sapphire hair-clip that had once belonged to her mother; and finally the white shoes.

All of it looked so beautiful and too much. Three years ago, Bella never would have envisioned herself where she was today—here, in the Cullen house, marrying someone other than Edward. Bella smiled sadly at the thought of him. A lot had changed since Edward left her life for good three years ago; it was a long, hard road to recovery but it brought her to bigger and better things—one of those things being Damon. There was no lie that Damon had been a huge part of her recovery. He had shown her a life that she had never dreamed of living and made her live it. She was even living it now. Through Damon, she had become someone that she loved and admired. He had made her stronger—physically, emotionally and spiritually. Bella was counting her lucky stars that she was even here today, marrying the man who brought her out of the darkness; marrying the man her saved her; marrying the man she loves.

When caught her reflection in the mirror, the first thing she spotted was the large cheer-splitting grin on her face.

"I still can't believe it." the words slipped out of her mouth un-accordingly. Alice looked up from the make-up she was closely inspecting, eyes twinkling. After these past three years, Alice couldn't be happier to see Bella was finally getting her happy ending. "I feel like I'm living in some fantasy world . . ."—Bella shook her head, not quite able to shake off the grin on her face—". . . It's like I'm in some amazing dream that I'll eventually wake up from. I'm too scared to pinch myself, Alice. What if this really is a dream? What if I really do wake up and find out none of this is real . . . _Ow_! Alice!" Bella hissed, reaching up to cradle her forearm.

Alice smirked, hands on her hips. "There, you're still awake. Now can you just accept that _this is real _already. I need your help picking which . . ."—

"Alice, so long as you don't make me look like a clown, you can do whatever you want. I trust you." Bella interrupted.

Alice froze, stepping back to look at Bella in shock, placing a hand on her heart. "Did you really just say that?"

Bella furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Um . . . yes?" she then began to panic when Alice's bottom lip seemed to quiver. "Oh, no, Alice, um . . ."

Alice suddenly launched herself forward, squeezing Bella tight in her arms, almost cracking bones. "I think this is the first time you've ever said you've trusted me with your make-up." Alice sniffed.

Through the reflection of herself in the mirror, she watched the concern in her face drop and transform into annoyance. "Seriously Alice?"

Just then the door opened. Elena and Rosalie walked in both dressed in powder blue bridesmaid gowns. All the bridesmaid gowns had different cuts, styles and shapes with just the powder blue silk material as similarity. Rosalie's dress was floor-length, resembling a shimmering waterfall cascading to her feet. Not to mention it hugged her statuesque hour-glass figure perfectly. Her straps were thin—spaghetti straps—like Elena's. Elena's dress however was knee-length like Alice's. However, unlike Alice's which was very 20s-esque, Elena's dress had a tight upper half and flared skirt that swished from side-to-side with every movement. Both of them had their hair in soft, glossy curls and had flowers in their hair—in Elena's, there was a blue orchid that contrasted with her dark brown hair; in Rosalie's there was a white rose.

Rosalie took one look at Alice and Bella then scoffed with a grin. "What set her off this time?"

"Shh you!" Alice retorted, unwrapping herself from Rosalie.

Rosalie opened her mouth to obviously argue something back but Elena quickly stepped in. "The guests are already arriving. We should probably start getting Bella ready."

Alice squeaked and jumped to work, snapping up brushes and make-up and began pressing it into Bella's face when she least expected it, making Bella jump. "Offt!" Bella exclaimed, followed by a: "Bella—_hold still_!" from Alice. As Alice set to work on Bella's make-up, Rosalie began tending to her hair and Elena her nails.

About twenty minutes in, Bella asked the question that has been playing on her lips all morning and afternoon. "How is he?"

The three girls smirked, obviously knowing something she did. "Frustrated." They all answered at once.

Bella sat up in her seat, almost making Elena drop the nail varnish from her hands. "What? Why?" she asked in alert.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "He isn't taking being bossed around by everyone too well. All the boys are taking it in turns to be on 'Damon watch'."

When Bella continued to look confused, Alice finally answered. "Oh Bella, isn't it obvious?" Alice said to her, shaking her head at her. "He can't stand being away from you. Carlisle's already caught Damon trying to sneak up the staircase to see you twice this morning."

"Emmett caught him trying to shimmy up the drain pipe." Rosalie added.

Elena continued: "Stefan had to spike his bourbon with vervain. He was knocked out for an hour or two . . ."—

"And then when he finally woke up, he was back to trying to sneak up stairs and shimmy up drain pipes." Alice finished.

All three bridesmaids were giggling with laughter by the end of it and Bella was blushing furiously, but grinning from head-to-toe.

"You've really got this one on a leash, Bella." Rosalie said, when the laughter died down.

Alice nodded in agreement.

"It's about time, too." Elena added. "That one has needed tying down for over a century."

Rosalie suddenly grinned wickedly. "Which reminds me—I hope you enjoy mine and Emmett's present, Bella. I highly suggest you take it with you to the honeymoon."

Alice and Elena _Ooh_'d.

"I picked them out of course,"—Rosalie clucked her tongue—"Emmet had no idea what he was doing. I think he was treating it more as a shop for himself, more than anything. There was this one thing that Emmett picked up . . ."—

Elena, Bella and Alice scrunched up their noses in disgust.

"TMI, Rose, TMI." Elena muttered.

Rosalie waved her hand. "Nothing you haven't seen, done or dreamt about darling."

And then the girls slowly began to get back to work; Elena resumed painting her nails, Rosalie continued curling her hair, and Alice continued doing her make-up. Bella closed her eyes and slowly began to drift away into her thoughts. Her thoughts were about Damon, of course. She thought of how Damon might look in his suit . . . Damon at the end of the isle . . . Damon's eyes . . . Damon's smirk . . . and then, suddenly, she was thinking of a memory. And just not any memory; it was the memory of when they first met.


	2. First Meeting

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourite'd and followed this story so far. You're all so lovely :)

…

_**Marry You**_

…

"First Meeting"

(_Three Years Ago_)

"_Il volo 201 per New York City sarà imbarco da Volterra aeroporto in circa 30 minuti. Possono tutti I passeggeri del volo 201 per New York City fare il loro modo di terminal D_." (The flight 201 to New York City will be boarding from Volterra Airport in approximately thirty minutes. Can all passengers of the 201 flight to New York City make their way to terminal D.)

Bella Swan blinked out of her subconscious at the sound of the over head voice. The words '201' and 'New York City' calling out to her, whilst the rest everything else was estrange. Inhaling silently, Bella tightened her grasp on her rucksack and lifted herself from the seats, looking around her for any signs indicating the direction to 'terminal D'.

The airport was busy this Saturday afternoon and Bella was finding herself craning her neck to see over seas of people. People moved in all different directions, to different destinations. It felt like Bella was the only one alone in this airport, bar the businessmen with their phones glued to their ears, for everyone seemed to be with travelling with someone. She looked around the room and all she saw was people together—couples, old and new; friends, clustered together, laughing and conversing; families with children from teenagers to toddlers. In this sea of people, no-one noticed her, everyone too lost in their own bubble that was their life.

After about two minutes of helpless search for 'terminal D', Bella wondered towards the help desk where a smiling woman—who thankfully knew English—pointed out the direction to terminal D in a thick, almost incoherent, Italian accent. Bella thanked her, sullenly, and made her way to her terminal. As she did so, she thought of Alice and Carlisle. Fear and worry churned in the pit of her stomach for them. Whilst Bella was fleeing the country on their demand, they were left behind—facing the consequences of the past twenty-four hours. They were already at the Volturi Castle by now, and that brought a wave of nausea over her as she thought of tiny Alice and harmless Carlisle standing in the circular marble throne room before the three rulers.

Bella finger nails dug deep into the strap of her rucksack. Red and black eyes flashed before her eyes as she remembered herself standing in the throne room. Everywhere she looked, she saw red eyes. But the ones that stood out the most: the milky red eyes of Aro as he authorised Edward's death. Bella's step faltered suddenly, an abrupt pain circulating through her body as she remembered the sound of Edward's head being torn from his body. Alice's had attempted to shield her eyes from view, but it was already too late; she saw it all. She saw the way Felix held Edward back as Dimitri twisted and pulled his head from his body like removing a cork from a bottle. She remembered hearing the distinctive _thump_ of his head hitting the ground, the _whoosh _of fire being lit, followed by the crackle of Edward's body and head being burnt to ash. She could still smell of the dark grey-mauve smoke that admitted from Edward's burning body in her nose.

"_Signora_?" an Italian voice said from somewhere, snapping her out of dark memories convulsing in her mind.

She blinked and saw a kind-faced elderly couple standing in front her, concern adorning their faces. She suddenly became aware that she was standing in the middle of an airport, shaking and shivering. "Excuse me," Bella stuttered and quickly rushed away from the elderly couple as fast as her shaking body could. She felt the familiar sting of her eyes and the nausea building up from the bit of her stomach. She rushed. She needed to find a toilet—_quickly._ Fortunately the first toilets she spotted were at the end of the corridor she rushed down; she stormed into the empty restroom with the bang of the door and threw herself into the nearest cubicle, emptying her stomach.

When the puking stopped, but the nausea still lingering at the back of her throat, Bella pulled herself back from the toilet. Tears sailed down her sickly pale cheeks and her body shook. She stayed, sitting on her legs on the airport restroom floor, until she knew the nausea was gone. Acutely aware of the plane she had to catch, Bella flushed the toilet, collected the tears on her cheeks and swelling around her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater then popped a breathe mint into her mouth. She took one look at her pathetic reflection in the restroom mirrors before facing the world again.

Getting to terminal D after that was eventless. No more tears fell and the nausea from before was still there, but muted. She kept her head down, only looking up when need be, and kept out of sight. The last thing she wanted was another elderly couple coming up to her and asking if she was alright, or someone spotting the redness of her eyes and sickly-green skin. When she arrived at terminal D five minutes later, she came with plenty of time to spare. So before passing through security, Bella popped into one of the airport stores to get herself something to occupy her time on the flight. She picked up some magazines, something she knew Alice would enjoy reading more than she would, and paid for them with some euro notes that Alice had given her. When she was heading out of the store, she walked face-first into someone walking into the shop.

She had to quickly grab onto the first thing she could to steady—which happened to be the cool leather jacket the person whom she bumped into was wearing. She gave a little stumble but the fists curled around the leather jacket kept her from falling. She looked up to see whom she had bumped into and was pretty sure she was looking at some Italian model from a billboard. His hair was raven black, slightly unruly but not in the way Edward's was—which was a glossy tangle of bonze locks that resembled a bed-head look—this guy's hair just looked like it had dried this way. His eyes were obscured from sight, due to the Ray-Bans perched on his nose. His skin was pale, but by no means as pale as a vampire's—it was more like hers: ivory. As for his features? Bella didn't get a close enough look, but she knew they were what someone would deem as attractive judging by the strong masculine jaw she spied.

"S-Sorry." Bella stuttered.

The Italian model gave her dead, expressionless look before ripping her hands from her jacket and then walked away. His hands weren't warm, but not cool either—however the skin was smooth, for man's hands.

Bella stumbled out of the store after he walked away. She made her way through security with no fault and greeted the lady at the entrance onto the plane quietly. By the time she had boarded the plane, she was eager to find her seat and get in the air. She was placed in a window seat, which she wondered whether that was Alice's doing because she hated the inner seats of the plane. She pulled the magazines out from her rucksack, placed them on her lap and stared out of the window, waiting for the plane to take off and half-listening to the noise going on around her.

At some point, she heard the sound of someone placing themselves down beside her. Bella didn't look in their direction, because she wasn't in the mood to spark conversation and continued to stare out of window until a voice rung out from beside her.

"Did you make it through security without throwing yourself into anyone else?" the voice was masculine, deep and dripping with sarcasm.

Bella turned her head around and found herself looking at the Italian model. He no longer had his sunglasses on, meaning Bella know saw his eyes. They were blue—an icy blue that contrasted with the dark black lashes and made him look even more handsome. Bella wouldn't be surprised if women threw themselves at him everywhere he went—in fact, the hostess that showed Bella to her seat minutes ago was checking him out right now. However, as good looking as this guy may look, Bella felt no temptation to throw herself at him. When the man had spoke, he was obviously saying it in a rude, abrasive way that was intended to offend her or make her feel foolish. Bella was immediately off-put.

When Bella didn't answer, the man continued. He looked straight on, nodding towards the front of the plane. "Perhaps I should let the pilot know we've got collateral damage onboard." _Jerk_. Despite that, Bella couldn't think of anything remotely intelligent to retort with, thus she settled on giving him the most convincing stink eye and turned to look out of the window once more. She heard him chuckle from beside him, signalling that her glare obviously had no affect on him. If he treated every woman like this, Bella was pretty sure he was pretty used to getting the stink eye. Regardless, he didn't say anything again until the plane was in the air.

When the plane was about to board, the hostess went through the usual rules and regulations and went round to check seatbelts were on. Bella didn't fail to notice the way that the hostess purred "seatbelt on, sir" to the man beside her when she passed by. Once the plane lifted off, Bella watched the plane lift up, up, up into the air from the window. She heard the man from beside her tapping away on the armrests with his fingers. She chose to ignore him, and everyone else on the plane, letting herself get lost in her own thoughts. The man didn't continue to bother her until well into the first hour when the hostesses came round to attend to people's needs.

The man had raised his hand for assistance from the hostess.

"Can I help you, sir?" the hostess purred in a way that she thought was seductive.

Bella turned her head slightly from the window and watched from the corner of her eye as he responded. "I'd like a glass of bourbon."

The hostess shifted on her feet. "I'm sorry sir, we don't . . ."

—"Just bring me the strongest liquor you've got." The man instructed. "In fact, bring me the whole bottle. I'm going to need it."

Bella's mouth opened ajar. She turned to look at the hostess, half expecting her to rattle someone off about not being able to place that order, but much to her surprise the hostess blinked and then said: "Of course, sir. I'll be right back with that." Bella's eyebrows rose and she watched the hostess saunter away, swaying her hips from side to side. The man watched her go for a split second before turning to look at her.

"Hostesses . . . always so desperate to please—especially the ones they want to join the mile high club with."

Bella's mouth dropped open even wider. "_Excuse _me?" she spluttered and the man simply smirked. "T-that is inappropriate."

The man rolled his eyes. "Why? Are you 18?"

"I don't have to answer that!" Bella retorted.

The man raised his eyebrows. "So you are then?"

Bella narrowed her eyes. "It's none of your business."

"Hm," the man hummed with feigned thoughtfullness. "Defensive. I don't suppose _you _want to join the mile high club, do you?" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Bella opened and closed her mouth, no words coming through. "I—I—I . . ." the man gave her a mocking look, ushering with his hand for her to carry on. Bella could safely say she had never met a man as rude as him. "You are so _rude_."

The man scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Even my saintly brother can do better than that lame attempt of offending me."

Bella grounded her teeth. "Bite me." She spat back.

The man's lips stretched into a smirk and his eyes glinted. "Is that an invitation?" he ran his tongue over his lips.

Bella felt sick. Bella let out a noise of disgust and turned to look out of the window, stubbornly. She heard the guy chuckle from behind her and had to dig her nails into her arms and bite her tongue from saying anything else. She glared out of the window for ten more minutes—in that time, the hostess returned with the bottle of liquor and a glass. Bella peaked out through her curtain of hair and the corner of her eye to see him unscrewing the cap and, ignoring the glass, drinking straight from the bottle. Bella gritted her teeth and glared back out of the window. After several more minutes, she felt the anger slowly vanish. She inhaled slowly and when she exhaled finally, she felt her stiff body began to relax. She rested her head against the window and slowly began to dissolve into her thoughts.

She thought about out things could have gone differently. If only she had been a little quicker, and had stopped Edward from stepping into the sunlight, Edward could have been the one sitting beside her right now. She began to chew on her bottom lip, and attempted to push back the tears as she began think about when she returned to Forks. She would have to explain to Charlie and Jake what happened. She would have to explain to them that Edward's dead and make up some believable story that how Edward died was an accident and not remotely supernatural related. Then she would have to carry on. She would have to go back to Forks High and carry on like everything was normal. She wasn't sure whether she could do that; she wasn't sure whether she could pretend everything was normal.

Bella hadn't heard herself begin to cry until the man beside her let out a large exasperated sigh beside her. "Let me guess—boyfriend troubles?" Bella didn't turn her head towards him, pretending not to have heard him. When she was brought out of her thoughts, she suddenly became aware that her vision was slightly blurred with water. "Did he break up with you for a girl with bigger boobs than you? Or did he cheat on you with another guy, perhaps?" he mocked her.

Bella continued to pretend to not hear him and he continued to mock her.

"It's always the same with girls like you. You cry because your boyfriend dumps you. You cry because your boyfriend wants to have sex with you. You cry because your boyfriend thinks your best friend is pretty. _Blah, blah, blah._"

Bella snapped her head around, eyes filled with tears and lip quivering. "Can you shut up . . . _please_."

The man took one look at her tears, her quivering lip and her large expressive eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Whatever." He reached over and grabbed the bottle, taking a swig. "Just look somewhere else. Believe it not, but crying girls doesn't make my cold heart melt." He smirked at her coolly.

Bella ducked her head and began to wipe away the tears with the sleeve of her sweater. "No," Bella said in agreement. "I can believe that." She sniffed.

There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of liquor splashing against the glass bottle as he took several swigs. "What did he do then?"

Bella looked up at him through her wet lashes with a glare. "I thought I told you to shut up?"

He shrugged carelessly. "I never do as I'm told." _Well that doesn't surprise me, _Bella thought to herself, glaring at the back of the seat in front of her. "Don't wanna say, huh? Is that because you're ashamed? _Is _he gay?"

"No." Bella replied thickly, seething. "He wasn't."

"Wasn't?" he retorted, obviously noticing her choice of words. He wasn't all stupid then.

Bella looked down at her hands clasped together on her lap, over the magazines. "He's dead."

A long awkward silence followed. "Oh," he said after a while. "Well this is awkward." He drawled, taking a swig. Bella watched with a glare as he pulled the bottle back from his lips, pulled the glass towards him, and began to pour into it. He thrusts the glass into her hands once he had finished pouring. "Here, Bambi, drink up."

Bella looked at the glass in her hands and then at him, eyes still slightly red around the rim and eyebrow risen. "Bambi?" she said, her voice coated in dry humour.

The man nodded. "You have that whole Bambi look going on . . ."—he waved a finger around his eyes—". . . y'know—the moment when Bambi's Mom got shot, or whatever happened. I just know someone got shot."

Bella looked back down at the glass in her hand then placed back onto the table. "I don't drink." Bella murmured, when he looked at her.

"An eighteen year old who doesn't drink? Hm, I must be speaking to the reincarnation of the Virgin Mary." His eyes rolled down her body, lingering on her stomach. "I don't suppose you've got a bun in your oven, do you?" he asked, eyebrow cocked.

Bella shot him a disgruntled look.

Just then, the same hostess from before appeared to them asking whether everything was alright and to their standards—though the question was more directed to the man beside her. The man cocked his brow and looked to her face to her suddenly exposed cleavage that wasn't like that before. "Everything's quite alright . . ."

"Maria."

" . . . _Maria_." He finished in a purr. "But I don't suppose you know where the restrooms are . . ."

The hostess ran her tongue across her lips. "How about I show you, sir?"

His lips opened up, flashing his pearly whites. "Perfect." He then stood from his seat and looked back at Bella, giving her a wink. "Bambi." He acknowledged before following after the hostess. Bella watched him go in utter disgust. When they were out of her sight, Bella turned back to the front, and opened up the first magazine on her lap. The man didn't return for fifteen minutes later and when the hostess reappeared, she was adjusting a chiffon necktie around her neck, looking slightly flustered.

"Enjoy yourself?" Bella drawled from her seat when he sat himself back down.

The man hummed. "Very much." he said with a wicked grin shot her way.

Bella looked up at him, glaring at him and then felt a sudden rush of nausea come over her. She swallowed. "Is that . . ."—she lifted a shaky finger to his face—". . . _blood_?" she squeaked.

The man lifted a hand to his face and rubbed something from his cheek. "Oh, it looks like it is . . ."

That was the last Bella knew, before she fainted.

When Bella woke up, she was acutely aware of the smell of well, there was no better way to describe it than, heaven. It smelt masculine—bittersweet with a hint of musk and fresh mint. Enticing.

"Bambi?" a voice sung from somewhere in her head.

When the last of the darkness lifted, she groaned and fluttered her eyes open. Everything was blurred at first, but she soon came to realise someone was leaning over her. "Ed . . . ward?" she croaked.

"Actually, the name's Damon—Damon Salvatore. But some people call me God. That's only when they're withering underneath me though."

Bella groaned again. Suddenly she remembered where she was; she was on a plane, heading back to the US, sitting next to a jerk that was apparently called Damon. "Go away." Bella lifted a hand and weakly tried to push him away. It was a pathetic attempt, but Damon sat back nonetheless. Once he was back in his own seat, Bella felt free to slowly pull herself up back into a sitting position. "I . . . fainted?" she said that as more as a question than a statement. She reached up to clutch her head.

"Yep." Damon popped the 'p'.

Bella looked over at him and glared when he saw he was lounging in his seat, smirking at her in wicked amusement. "Stop smirking. This isn't funny." She grounded out.

Damon snickered and didn't make any attempt to mask amusement. "So you're afraid of blood, huh?"

"No."—she attempted to retort, pathetically—"I just . . . faint at the smell of it, is all."

Damon raised his brows. "You can't smell blood." He stated, snorting, though looking at her with sudden interest. Since now, he looked at her with a sudden disinterest in his eyes.

"Yeah,"—Bella muttered dryly—"you're not the first to tell me that." She winced, thinking of Edward.

Damon shifted in his seat, leaning slightly closer to her. "What does it smell like?"

"Rust." She groaned, suddenly feeling the nausea return at thought of how it smelt. "Iron. Ugh." She groaned again in disgust. "Can we talk about something else please? Or not talk at all?" she hoped for the latter option more.

"We're here for a long time." Damon replied. "I'm going to need something to occupy it."

Bella shot him a dirty look. "Didn't you bring a book or iPod or something?" Damon shook his head with that irritating smirk of his. "Who brings nothing with them onto an 11 hour flight?"

Damon shrugged. "Me." He answered, simply.

"Well you're stupid." Bella mumbled.

He chuckled in return. There was a short silence between them and then, when Bella finally thought she had a moment's rest: "I don't believe I have your name."

"So?" Bella retorted, dryly.

"You have mine. It's only fair that I have yours."

"Says who?"

"Me."

"Tough—you're not getting it. You'll have to guess."

So he did. Kristen, Jennifer, Amy, Jessica, Sophie . . . the list goes on. I guessed he was listing all of America's top 100 baby names. By the end, he wasn't getting anywhere close to guessing her name and Bella found herself on the tip of an iceberg. "Oh God, it's not Taylor is it?" Damon groaned. Bella shot him a look that said '_do I look like I'm called Taylor_?'. "Good—I really hate that name, despite my flinching ability to listen to Taylor Swift." Damon lounged back in his chair and looked at her thoughtfully. "Is it . . ."—

"Enough already." Bella groaned. "If I give you my name, will you leave me alone?" Damon shrugged. Bella took that as a 'yes'. She inhaled. "It's Bella."

Damon was silent for a moment, staring at her in way that only made her feel uncomfortable. "Bella." He tested the name on her tongue. "Hm,"—he thoughtfully hummed—"It works. I guess."

"You _guess_?" Bella retorted.

Damon shrugged. "Well, you're a little . . ." Bella raised her eyebrows. ". . . Average. Bella wouldn't have been my first guess."

"Thanks." Bella muttered, sarcastically, and then rested her head back, letting her eyelids closed.

After that, Bella managed to get an estimated three hours sleep before she woke up again to turbulence. When she did, the windows outside were black, and the plane was now lit by lights above. When she turned her head, she spotted Damon sleeping beside her, with his head rested back and his hands clasped on his front. As Bella surveyed him, she spotted the large statement ring on one of his fingers. It was quite peculiar—silver with a blue stone in the middle and a crest in silver on-top. It reminded her of the crests the Cullens wear.

"A family heirloom." Bella almost jumped at the sound of Damon's voice. Her eyes snapped to his face to spot him staring at her, with one blue eye cracked open. In the light, they didn't look the icy blue that they were before—now they looked like an almost periwinkle blue. "That's what you were looking at right—the ring?" Damon waved the hand with the ring on it.

Bella licked her dry lips and looked down at the ring again. "It's . . . unusual."

Damon smirked slightly and looked down at the ring. "Yeah, I guess it is. I'm kind of impartial to it, though."

Bella gave a weak smile—probably the first smile she had offered him all day—and then asked, shyly: "Does the rest of your family have one?"

"I don't have a family." Damon immediately retorted.

Bella's lips pursed in confusion. "But you said you had a brother before—I heard you . . ." she pointed out, accusingly.

Damon inhaled slightly and said to her, with a slight roll in the eye and dry tone of voice. "Just because I have a brother, doesn't mean I have a family."

Bella could think of many ways to point out that he was wrong about that, but she said none of it. She guessed that there were some hostility there between her and her brother. Beside herself, Bella felt curious. "What about your parents?"—Bella asked softly—"Do you have any?" she continued when he gave her a look that said '_what about them?_'.

He snorted. "Don't we all have parents?"

Bella shrugged. "I guess. But not everyone has _parents_, per say. You have a biological mother and biological father, but may not necessarily have parents."

"Well, I had one of those."

"Parents?"

"Biological mother and father." He spat.

Suddenly realising this was quite a deep, personal topic Bella didn't say anything more upon the subject without feeling like a hypocrite. She didn't like Damon asking about Edward, so why should he like her asking about his family? Bella inhaled silently and turned in her seat, so that she was facing forward again. She reached above her and flicked on one of the reading lights, and began to flicker through the one of the magazines in her lap. It was a fashion magazine, meaning little of it interests her, but she tried to find interest in it to make time fly. Beside her, Damon was silent, making it appear that he had gone back to sleep. She flicked through each page slowly, examining each outfit and picture with disinterest.

"What about you?" Damon said after some while.

Bella looked up at him. "I thought you were asleep." Damon clucked his tongue and motioned with her hand for her to answer. "You mean parents?" he didn't answer thus Bella assumed that was what he was asking about. "I guess I have parents." he rose an eyebrow at '_I guess_'. "I have a Mom who lives in Jacksonville with her minor-league baseball player husband and a Dad whose the Chief of Police to a small town. They haven't been together since their divorce, when I was three years old. All contact is made over the phone." She said, surprisingly honest.

"Who do you live with?"

"Ch-my Dad." She answered, correcting herself at the beginning. She flicked another page of the magazine.

A pause. "And where does he live?"

She turned to look at him and raised a brow. "Why? Are you going to find me after this?" Damon snorted. "A town called Forks."

"Never heard of it." he scoffed.

Bella chuckled. "You and the rest of the world." She chorused. "It's in Washington." Bella muttered and then looked at him casually. "What about you? You're obviously American. Where are you from?"

Damon's eyes twinkled. "Great observation skills." He drawled and Bella rolled her eyes. "A boring town called Mystic Falls."

"And that's where you're heading now?"

Damon smirked. "I have a brother there waiting to be tormented."

"I'm sure he'll enjoy your return." She snorted.

Much to Bella's surprise, the rest of the flight was tolerable—and most importantly: Damon was tolerable. He made those few snarky comments her and there but overall, the flight was slow but okay. When they finally arrived in New York, it was only just twilight. Bella stuffed her magazines back into her back and headed out of the plane, after Damon. He winked at the blushing hostess as they left the plane—which made Bella's lip curl in disgust—before stepping out of the plane and into the airport. Once they passed through security, Bella turned to Damon who had placed his sunglasses back onto his face.

"I have to go catch another plane." Next stop was Seattle for her, where the rest of the Cullens would be waiting for her to drop her off back at Charlie's. She was already dreading it. This would be the first time she sees Esme, Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper since they left all those months ago. "Bye, Damon. It was . . . um . . . fun." She muttered, with a half-lie. She couldn't say she enjoyed the flight with Damon, but at times it was tolerable.

Damon simply nodded to her coolly. "Cya Bambi."

Bella adjusted her rucksack over her shoulder and slowly walked away. When she looked over her shoulder a few feet away, he was already gone, melted into the busy crowds of the airport. Bella assumed that was the last time she would see Damon that day—how wrong she was.

Bella found her next terminal much quicker than the one in the Italian airport. The flight from New York to Seattle wasn't even half as long as the last flight and was quiet. Thankfully she didn't have a Damon repeat, rather sitting next to a businessman who spent the whole flight tapping away on his laptop. When Bella arrived at Seattle airport, it took less than fifteen minutes to spot the Cullens through the crowds. Emmett was the first one she spotted, because everyone seemed to part away from like the Red Sea. After that, she spotted Rosalie waiting by his side and to Bella's surprise, she didn't look anything like the cool and confident Rosalie she was used to. Beside Rosalie, was Jasper, and finally beside Jasper was Esme. They all looked just as Bella remembered them.

"Bella." Esme croaked once she reached them. Even though she was going through the worst 24 hours of her life, she still looked beautiful. She looked as if she wanted to hug her, but something was holding her back.

"Hi." Bella murmured, uncomfortably. The discomfort suddenly disappeared when she felt a wave of calmness overcome her; she glanced at Jasper and passed him a quick, grateful smile as she became the calmest she's been over the duration of the past 24 hours.

Esme suddenly gave into her urges and rushed forward to hug her. Bella felt her whole body relax when she was pulled into Esme's cool embrace and slowly wrapped her own arms around her. Esme gave her body a small squeeze when Bella wrapped her arms around her. "Thank God you're safe." Esme whispered into her ear. "Alice called saying she couldn't see you in her visions anymore. We thought . . ." Esme couldn't seem to finish her sentence but Bella had a feeling she knew how it was meant to have finished. They thought she might have killed herself.

"Alice and Carlisle . . . they're safe?" Bella whispered, pulling back from Esme.

Esme nodded slowly. "Yes. They've just gotten to the airport now. They're getting the next plane."

Just then the sound of a phone beeping sounded between them, pulling them out of their little bubble. They pulled apart and turned to look at Jasper who had pulled his phone out of his pocket. "It's Alice,"—Esme's eyes lit up—"They're on the plane now. She's checking to see if Bella's arrived. She still can't see you." Jasper said directly to Bella.

"But what does this mean?" Rosalie spoke up. Bella was surprised at how broken she sounded. "Why can't Alice see her?"

Jasper looked directly at Bella thoughtfully. "I have no idea."

…

(_Present Day_)

Bella was pulled out of her memory by the sound of a door being knocked. She blinked her eyes open and remembered where she was—in Rosalie and Emmett's bedroom. Alice, Rosalie and Elena all looked up from their tasks—Bella suddenly become aware of the fact she now had rollers in her hair and her toe-nails were almost completely painted. Elena met her eyes and gave her a look that said '_oh, look who's awake_'. Bella gave her an almost sheepish smile before her attention was turned to the door, which had opened after Alice had exclaimed: "Come if your name is not Damon Salvatore!"

The door opened ajar, just enough for someone to pop their head through, and Esme's head appeared through the gap. "Sorry to interrupt,"—she said, smiling excited—"It's just that someone's wanting their Mommy." Esme then pushed the door open wider, revealing her lovely lavender dress. "Come in, sweetie." And then moments later a curious looking green-eyed boy popped his head through the door. "He was getting a bit nervous around all the guests."

Bella felt her heart soften as she looked at the little boy standing in the threshold. She opened up her arms to the boy. "Come here, baby." And then the little boy was rushing towards her and tucking himself into her arms. Suddenly all she could see was a mass of unruly bronze locks. She inhaled his scent and pressed her lips into his nest of hair. Since the day he was born, Bella remembered breathing in his scent and instantly feeling as if every worry had melted away and this moment wasn't an exception. Every worry about today seemed to melt away and suddenly it was just her and this sweet little boy in her arms. It brought back the memory of when she first held him in her arms two years and nine months ago.

Two years and nine months ago was when Bella gave birth to Edward Jacob Cullen and Renesmee Carlie Cullen, her little impossibles.


End file.
